


brief and perfectly ordinary

by torch



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torch/pseuds/torch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This really isn't what Kagami meant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	brief and perfectly ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV: The Ides of Porn, to the prompts confidence, physicality, streetball, sweat, ridiculous.

If there were any justice in the world, Kagami thinks, Aomine ought to smell like the bottom of someone's gym bag, or like a locker room towards the end of term. Like dirty old socks and wet towels and maybe a thin veneer of some sharp, cheap deodorant.

But of course he doesn't. He's Aomine Daiki, and he smells like a dream of men and sports, smells the way those cheap deodorants only wish they could afford commercials to make it look as if they smell like... wait, now Kagami's getting himself muddled up. The point is, Aomine smells like spices and heat and warm perfect skin that Kagami wants to lick all over.

He's still Aomine, though. "Get me some clean towels," he says, heading for Kagami's bathroom with long, confident strides. "I'm going first."

"The hell you are," Kagami says, stopping him with an elbow to the chest. He shouldn't have invited Aomine to come clean up at his place, even if they almost sorta kinda got along during their one-on-one game at the outdoor court. Saying _it's close, if you want to shower there_ had been an unthinking thing, something he might have offered any other player he'd had a good game with. Now he has Aomine right here, making everything else look small and uninteresting by comparison.

Kagami ducks into the bathroom and locks the door. He strips off and showers so fast that he has to stop after he's soaped up and rinsed off to sniff himself and check that he's really stopped sweating. Then he snorts, because no one cares what _he_ smells like.

It would have been polite, of course, to let Aomine go first. Going counter to whatever Aomine says is just a reflex by now. Kagami sighs. And it means Aomine's out there in his apartment, probably drinking milk straight from the carton with the fridge door still open.

He dries himself off and looks at the pile of sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts by the door. No way. Kagami hangs them on the edge of the laundry basket to dry off a bit. He wraps a towel around his hips and uses another to scrub at his dripping hair, opening the bathroom door again and scowling at the wave of cold air that makes his skin pebble. "Hey, Aomine! Your turn!"

There's no answer, though. Kagami goes into the kitchen, where the fridge door is closed and there's no Aomine. (But the milk carton's out on the counter. Kagami checks it; there's a little left in the bottom. He puts it back in the fridge, then takes it out again, because Aomine probably did drink from the carton, and Kagami resolves to make him finish it. And buy a new one.)

It's not a huge apartment, and there's not a lot of places to check. Kagami looks into the living room, which is empty, and then there's just his bedroom. Of course. Aomine's lying on the bed, sprawled out in those same workout clothes, and dicking around on Kagami's laptop. He looks up when Kagami comes in, but not very fast, not like he thinks he's been caught at anything. Instead he grins and says, "Hey, where's your porn?"

Kagami wants to strangle him. Except he also wants to lick him. "Get off my bed, asshole," he says. "You want to shower or what?"

"Or what," Aomine says. "I thought I'd jerk off first, but there's no... seriously, what do you _do_ on this computer, homework?"

Kagami can feel himself flushing; he scrubs at his hair again, letting the towel fall over his face to hide it. "You were going to-- That's not something you do in other people's homes!" he says. "You're in my _bed_. Get out."

"But I'm comfortable here." Aomine rolls over, and his shorts are riding so low he kinda looks like porn himself. He reaches out one long arm and grabs the towel wrapped around Kagami's hips, tugs at it. "C'mere."

"H-hey!" Kagami drops his arms and grabs onto the towel, super fast. Aomine's firm tug has already made him stumble forward, and his shins bump into the bed. Aomine hasn't let go of Kagami's towel, either, so Kagami's clutching onto both the towel and Aomine's hand, and he wants to let go and fling his hands away, but then the towel would fall off, and that would be no big deal, right, just like a locker room, except they're not in a locker room, they're in Kagami's bedroom and Aomine's on Kagami's bed and _looking_ at him and seriously, when did Kagami's life get so complicated?

"I know why you asked me back here," Aomine says, and great, that makes one of them, because Kagami's really wondering. "Sometimes a guy just needs a hand." He lets go of the towel, but before Kagami can react to that, Aomine yanks at his hip instead, and Kagami's falling forward onto the bed in an uncoordinated, graceless heap. It's a good thing Aomine shoves the laptop out of the way. "I'll do you and you do me, okay, but I wish you had some decent porn."

Kagami draws breath to protest, and that means he smells Aomine from up close, and anyone else would be disgusting with their sweat drying on their skin, but Aomine smells delicious, and did he just say... "Decent porn," Kagami says, snorting to cover another deep breath of Aomine-scent. "Isn't that a contradiction in terms?"

That makes Aomine roll his eyes. "No wonder you don't have any porn if that's how you think about it." He reaches between Kagami's legs and brushes a clinging corner of the towel away and grabs onto Kagami's dick with his big, rough hand, and Kagami thinks he might just die, right here, right now. "Guess you don't need it, though."

He starts to move his hand in quick, easy jerks, a long way away from how Kagami likes to touch himself. Which is probably just as well, because if Aomine jerked him off just the way he wants it, he'd probably come in two strokes. "You're such an asshole," Kagami mutters, hips starting to push up, trying to catch Aomine's rhythm.

Sure, Kagami's jerked off with other people before. (Well, not a lot. Well... twice. And it was really awkward.) But he's never been jerked off by someone else before, and this is Aomine's hand on his dick, and he can't stand Aomine, except that Aomine's pretty much the star of all his jerk-off fantasies, even though he's a complete asshole, because he smells great and is kind of good-looking and at this moment, he is right here in Kagami's bed and Kagami wants to lick him and his hand is -- his hand is--

"Well, shit, that was fast," Aomine says. "You always go off like that?" He elbows Kagami in the ribs, but not that hard. "C'mon, you do me now."

Kagami grunts. Aomine is really terrible at this. "Okay." He rolls up on one elbow and shoves his other hand down Aomine's shorts before he can think about it, and holy hell, Aomine's hard. Like, did he get that hard from jerking Kagami off? Maybe he's just thinking about that decent porn of his. In either case, he's a nice size in Kagami's hand, thick and heated. When Kagami moves his hand, the waistband of Aomine's shorts snags on his wrist. Aomine makes an impatient sound and shoves them down a bit.

Now he can see, too, and Kagami swallows because that's his hand around Aomine's dick, that's Aomine's smooth skin smeared with a little clear fluid from the head, and he probably shouldn't think about leaning in to taste it, or pressing his face against Aomine's taut stomach and breathing deep just to get more of that irresistible smell. Instead he moves his hand, slow and firm, because if Aomine got to jerk him off the way he likes, then Kagami's going to jerk Aomine off the way _he_ likes, and that means deliberate, steady, sort of heavy but not rough.

Aomine tries to push into a quicker pace, of course, but Kagami won't let himself be rushed. Aomine's in Kagami's bed now, Aomine's dick is in Kagami's hand, and Kagami can't quite figure out how it happened, but even if he came fast as sneezing, himself, he's going to draw this out a bit more.

Because Kagami hates to admit it, but Aomine's hot like this. Shorts pushed down, shirt riding up, someone else's hand on his hard dick. (Kagami's hand. Kagami's own dick twitches hard enough that it's actually painful.) He really looks like porn now, the kind of porn Kagami would never own, the kind of porn he'd watch and jerk off to a thousand times.

"Oh yeah, that's good," Aomine says, as if they're just watching a game and someone did something clever out on the court, and Kagami's startled enough by the sound of Aomine's voice that he tightens his hand a bit more, and Aomine groans, and tips his head back, and comes.

It makes a mess all over Kagami's fingers, and that's probably just as well, because Kagami has to let go and grope for his towel to wipe his hand clean. He rolls over on his front, so Aomine can't see that he's hard again. "Better take that shower now," he says. "You made a mess on my bed, asshole."

"Who cares, you did it first." Aomine sits up slowly, stripping off his shorts. He stands up, naked from the waist down. He's alarmingly gorgeous, and Kagami wishes he couldn't even think those words. It's bad enough to think about the way Aomine smells all the time. He doesn't want to start thinking about the way Aomine _looks_. He'll never get anything done except jerking off, thinking about Aomine's face and shoulders and legs, remembering Aomine's hand on his dick. Aomine snaps his fingers in Kagami's face. "Hey, idiot, get me a towel."

"Get it yourself," Kagami says roughly. He hopes everything he's thinking isn't right there on his face. "Cupboard in the hall."

"Sure, sure." Aomine wanders off, muttering something uncomplimentary about Kagami's hospitality, which is rich coming from somebody who made himself at home on Kagami's bed and hunted for porn on his laptop. Kagami wonders if it's safe to roll over on his back yet.

He raises his voice. "Hey, Aomine! Finish the milk in the kitchen!"

"Stop bitching," Aomine yells back. "I'm going to use your shampoo." He says something else in a lower voice, just as he closes the bathroom door, and Kagami turns over on his back and lies there staring at the ceiling, dick throbbing and head spinning, because it can't possibly have been something about how Aomine likes the way Kagami's hair smells.


End file.
